


Draw Your Swords

by omgbrojen



Category: Football RPF
Genre: M/M, Marco gets angry, erik gets upset, they work it out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-15
Updated: 2015-05-15
Packaged: 2018-03-30 17:03:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3944692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/omgbrojen/pseuds/omgbrojen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marco gets angry and frustrated with their continuous losses in the Bundesliga and Erik is on the end of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Draw Your Swords

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SivNati](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SivNati/gifts).



They lost. Again. Erik's all but lost count of how many times in a row this is now. Even the fans had begun to sing quieter, leave earlier, demand more of them. He's not saying they shouldn't because they should, the team owes it to them to try harder, to fight. Erik's not sure how much more fight he has left in him.

It was sullen in the locker room and it's sullen in the car ride home. Marco sits in the passenger seat glowering out of the window, refusing to talk to or look at Erik. 

When they enter the house something changes. Marco seems angry instead of upset and Erik notices the way his jaw is clenched, his knuckles white from the tight grip he has on his keys. 

"This is fucking pathetic." He spits, hurtling his keys onto the side. 

Erik flinches away from the scraping sound they make and watches Marco silently.

"I can't believe this. Again!" Marco is seething. 

"Marco calm down..." Mumbles Erik, lifting his hand to place it on Marco's shoulder. 

Marco slaps it away with a look of disgust and Erik recoils in confusion.

"How can you tell me to calm down? _You_?" His voice is full of contempt and it triggers Erik's temper.

"What do you mean ' _you_ '? What's that supposed to fucking mean?" He questions, his voice raised. 

Marco looks at him properly then and Erik's never seen him look that way, not at him. His face was always kind and loving but now it's distorted, scrunched up in an ugly sneer that should never be there.

"You know what I'm talking about." Marco drawls, waving his hand dismissively in Erik's direction. 

"If you're talking about that ONE mistake that I made then fuck you, Marco. Fuck you." His voice had begun to crack as he finished his sentence, betraying his emotion.

"Well maybe if you didn't try so hard to be a fucking striker and actually did your job we wouldn't have lost!" the venom in Marco's voice is like nothing Erik's ever heard from him. 

It feels like Marco's punched him in the gut with those words, so cruel that Erik could never have imagined they'd leave Marco's mouth. Tears sting at his eyes and he tries desperately to hold them back. He balls his hands into fists at his side, stabs his nails into his palms, anything to stop them from falling.

When Marco slams his fist down on the counter Erik flinches and steps back. This isn't the Marco he knows. His Marco wouldn't speak like that, wouldn't lose his temper at Erik in such a way. 

"How could you say that? You know I've never had it as easy as you..." He manages to compose himself for a moment, just enough to mumble those words.

Then he's choking back a sob, trying to blink away the tears that brim and threaten to fall. His heart weighs heavy in his chest, he feels nauseous. Marco doesn't look at him again, doesn't notice when Erik slips away to their room. 

When Erik closes the bedroom door behind him he pauses, places his forehead against the cold wood and cries. His sobs wrack his entire body but he tries to stifle them, doesn't want Marco to hear. He feels the wetness of his cheeks with a shaky hand, laughs to himself quietly in disbelief. He never thought Marco would make him cry. 

He finds some composure as he undresses, sniffles as he climbs under the sheets. He doesn't bother to wipe the wetness from his cheeks, decides to let it dry there as he stares at the ceiling turning Marco's words over and over in his mind. 

It's not a helpful thing to do, he knows that because he's crying again. It's a silent cry this time, there's none of the raw emotion of the argument but he still fucking hurts. He feels betrayed that Marco would use his worst insecurity against him.

Erik must've dozed off because the next thing he aware of is being woken by the soft click of the bedroom door closing. He hears shuffling about and the removal of clothes before he feels Marco climbing into bed beside him. Erik can feel Marco's eyes on him but he doesn't want to look, his eyes are puffy and red from crying and Marco doesn't need to see that. 

If there's one thing Erik can be its stubborn and Marco knows that, so when Erik refuses to look at him he tries something else. Erik feels Marco shifting beside him then feels hands on his thighs. 

"What are you doing?"

Marco doesn't reply but rather shows Erik what he's doing. He trails light kisses up the inside of Erik's thighs, each one slow and deliberate. Despite himself Erik smiles, there's a tenderness to the kisses that eases the aching of his heart. His hands find Marco's hair and he runs them through the blond-brown locks tenderly. Marco purrs softly below him, the vibrations sending shivers through Erik. 

Marco bites at the skin of Erik's thighs, starting behind his knees, and swirls his tongue over the area enclosed by his lips. Erik leans his head back and closes his eyes, his fingers tangling themselves in Marco's hair. He moans softly when Marco begins to suck at the skin, coaxing a breathy laugh from him. 

Marco works his way from the knees upwards, biting and sucking slowly at every inch of skin, marking Erik as his. It's Marco's way of apology, he's too stubborn to say sorry aloud, always complains that he can never find the right words so he just shows Erik instead. It suits him just fine. 

Once Marco's worked his way to the top of Erik's thighs Erik cups his face and draws him up. He doesn't want anything more tonight, just wants Marco to hold him and litter him with loving, apologetic kisses.

Marco wraps his arms around Erik, settles back onto the bed and pulls him to his chest. He runs his hand through Erik's hair once, twice, three times, until he's sure that he's chased all of Erik's upset away. Erik melts into his embrace, nuzzles his head into the crook of Marco's neck. 

"I'm sorry too." mumbles Erik as he closes his eyes. 

**Author's Note:**

> This is dedicated to my lovely pal for the prompt: person A leaving thigh hickeys on person B and also the kinda prompt of them getting into a fight :)


End file.
